A Message to an Unknown Star
by moonmythology
Summary: Oneshot. Bastila writes to a missing Revan.


**A Message to an Unknown Star**

A/N: This is meant to be a sequel an old piece entitled _Dreams: Excerpts from Bastila Shan's Journal_, though this can be read without that. Enjoy reading!

I remember the time I first saw you as if it were yesterday.

It was on Coruscant. As Master Vrook's pet pupil, I was allowed to accompany him on one of his trips. That night, I snuck away to one of the Temple gardens—the jade rose garden that had the best view of the stars. I sat on one of the benches, looking at the glistening curtain above. That night, the sky was so clear that almost every star could be seen.

I was thinking of home when you sat beside me. You looked above and said nothing. You were staring at an orange star. I knew that it was Dantooine.

My curiosity got the best of me so I had to ask you, "Do you live on Dantooine? I knew I have never seen you there before."

There was a sad smile on your lips when you turned to me and said, "No. But I know someone who does…now."

Your brown eyes looked very sad. I thought that you must have had a very good friend that you missed. "Do you miss him?"

"Yes, I miss _her_. But she had to go because we…" You stopped for a while, looking perhaps for an appropriate word to use. "…we care for each other. Because we care for each other, we have to let each other go. That is the way of the jedi. Do you understand me?"

Even though I could not, I said yes. Years later, I would find out that the person that you were referring to is now an Exile.

"Which star are you looking for?" you asked in turn.

"Talravin."

You pointed to a blue star on the left side of the sky. "Talravin is right there."

"Thank you sir," I had to address you more formally because I saw from your robes that you were a jedi master—a very important one. "But I am not sure if my parents still live there. My father's an excellent hunter."

"Is he now?" You looked amused, perhaps by my obvious worship of my father. "Well, then. Perhaps when I think of you, I will look for that star. Padawan—"

"Bastila Shan, Master Revan…I did my research on the Archives."

"Did you now? Master Vrook must be very proud of you."

I nodded in affirmation. I was happy to have made a good impression on another master.

"If ever _you_ think of me in turn, I will be right there," you said, pointing to a green star on the right side of the sky.

After that, we said nothing more and continued meditating on the stars. Then, fireworks lit up, adding more colors to that beautiful sky.

That radiant darkness was lighter to me than any morning. I was happy then, because somehow, with you there, I felt safe as if I were home with my father. I did my research later and found that the green star is named Malachor. I looked for you but you were not there. Nothing that is there could ever be alive.

I never knew then, as I gazed at the stars with you, that you would be both my enemy and lover. I never even thought that I would see you again. I never knew I would imitate what you did then. Now, as I sit on the same bench on the same garden looking at that same green star, I am writing this to let you go.

It is strange. Perhaps you felt what I do feel now. It does hurt when you let someone go. Perhaps you felt the same way when you left. I know that you have loved me enough to be willing to die by my blade back at the Star Forge. Perhaps I would never truly understand why you left (It is a shame really, because I once shared a bond with you). No, I am not angry, my love. I just wish that you are safe—wherever you are.

I know you are there: somewhere in the sky. As fireworks are lighting up the sky once more, all that we have shared are once again coming back to me. But I have to let them go even though I can't forget them. Perhaps if the Force wills to give us back what we shared, it will let you come back to me. But at present, I own nothing. I possess nothing…even you. Now I know that you are not truly mine as I am yours.

The fireworks are fading. A shooting star just passed. I softly whispered a wish. Though this message may not reach you or you may never get to read this, I am sending this to you:

_There is no emotion; there is peace._

_There is no ignorance; there is knowledge._

_There is no passion; there is serenity._

_There is no death; there is the Force._

—Bastila Shan, 3954 BBY.


End file.
